


Chemistry in Questions

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Series: Midnight Verse [10]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thundercracker reacts to Midnight's pointed barb, and both discover something that was missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chemistry in Questions

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Yes, this is an Original Femme Character involved with a canon character fic. 
> 
> 2\. This part is heavy on the sex, but there are plot points being built on first.
> 
> 3\. Spark/Energy/Tactile without full spark-sharing for the method.

The femme's words hung in the air between them, her sharp, snapped denial striking deep into the Seeker. _Another broken wreck like he's made Cybertron,_ seemed to echo off even the trees and rocks, as well as his plating.

Thundercracker's confident smirk turned decidedly into a frown, almost a grimace. Her words bit too close to his spark, to the fact he didn't even know _why_ he still fought to live, let alone for his side. "Slag yourself, femme," he snarled at her, jumping up to transform and get back to the fight, rather than play any longer with the cannon-bait that she was.

//What?// She didn't have time to think past that as she snapped the pike down to stow it and bolted forward, jumping to wrap herself around his frame. "::You're not leaving me here!::" she told him sharply across the frame link and aloud, hands latching on again.

"Slaggin' pits-spawned nuisance!" Thundercracker griped at her, unable to finish a climb, and came down swiftly to the ground to push her back off. "I'm not giving you a free ride back! In case you hadn't noticed, I ought to blow your slaggin' processors across half this mudball!"

"Maybe I _should_ let you go back without me..." Midnight said, suddenly musing and thoughtful, "and see what happens... Not that your side hasn't likely already fled..." She spilled off at the buck of his frame, turning on the tips of her pedes to keep her optics and the cannon trained on him.

"The rest of your glitching domestics weren't having that easy a time of it, little femme," Thundercracker blustered. "And I am not afraid of those glitching Pit fighters."

"Prime was handing it out nicely, last I looked," Midnight said sweetly, "which means it wasn't going to last that much longer..." Her voice went serious, as she looked up at Thundercracker, her optics almost sad. She'd seen this every day of her online life, from the moment she had enough processor capability to understand what was going on around her. She'd grown up half in medical, watching the injured come in again and again, seen all of her creators come home damaged time after time... It made her so sad, and so angry, all at once, that something pushed her to at least _try_ to talk to this one, one on one, without either of their leaders around to stop it. "You know it never does. Nothing _ever_ changes... your side starts something, we come to stop you, we bicker back and forth and as soon as Megatron gets into trouble you all run, leaving nothing but waste and damage and getting precious little out of it... Aren't you tired of this? I'm new, compared to any of the rest of you, and _I'm_ tired of seeing it... always the same except for who got hurt this time..."

Thundercracker's laser cannon on the left flared....then died away as he listened to that running expository that detailed so much of the mire he felt like he was stuck in. "You don't get to be tired of it, Sparkle. You haven't seen it for so many vorns it's all you can slaggin' remember most days." He had. He'd lost the few he had ever called friends, might as well have lost his mate, and he'd watched a mech he once considered their best slowly become something that was too pitiful to even be a joke. They were losing everything that had ever made him proud, he knew they'd already lost, and yet he couldn't see any way to stop fighting.

The way that cannon died out... that meant that she was never going to have a better chance than right this moment to try. She had to, all the best of everything she'd learned from her secret creator and her Uncle Skyfire demanded that she at least give something other than violence a chance. Even if he slapped at her in the next moment, even if the hurt and grief she could see written on his faceplates and in the line of his wings vanished back into hatred and battle-lust, she would know she'd tried. If it didn't, if he listened, if he would give her a chance to talk and a chance to understand what went on on the other side at least a little better... maybe they could get somewhere.

"My name," she said, softly, as she stepped towards him, just two slow, easy strides, hands empty and the shoulder-mount turned away, "is Midnight... And you're right. I haven't. I don't ever _want_ to, Thundercracker... especially since I don't have anything else. This war is all I've ever seen -- but maybe it means I see clearer, or different, having watched this since I had first-form optics watching my creators patching wounds Ratchet couldn't be spared for."

Thundercracker made both cannons stay cycled down, looking at her, seeing her for who she was...Sunstreaker's creation, Sideswipe's too, and yet... he was hearing words from her he'd thought himself -- down deep in his processors where that mental vampire couldn't get at them. "War's not going anywhere, though, femme. Between Prime and Megatron, it will go on for a vorn of vorns."

"Prime doesn't want anything but to see this war ended -- safely for the humans, and for Cybertron -- " she added the aside swiftly, trying to keep him from pointing out that Megatron in his own way did, too, "but you're right... it's Megatron. It's Megatron... and it's that you all stay behind him, despite that he hasn't gotten you anything but trapped here since you all crashed. Maybe once he did. I don't know, I wasn't there, and no-one on my side can tell me what made any of you follow him..."

Thundercracker laughed at her, his voice darkly dangerous. "You're as crazy as anyone following Megatron, femme, if you think Prime's not **just** as culpable for the war dragging on as long as it has!"

She blinked, cocking her head to the side slightly, willing to listen to him as much as she burned to defend her secret papa. "Tell me why you say so?"

Thundercracker's optics widened in surprise, but he had an opening. "If you knew how many times the Army was on the verge of being unable to regroup and launch a new offensive, how easily the Autobots... especially here with their resources... could have smashed us wide open... but oh no, Megs calls 'retreat' and you little domestics just sit back and watch us limp away!"

She looked at him, letting that rattle around in her processor, and then she hissed a soft sigh. "I've heard so many fights about that -- that I wasn't supposed to," she admitted with a wry twist of her mouth, "and I mostly agree with him about why -- that I hadn't even thought about how it must seem..."

She paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to put what her papa felt into words he might understand. "Thundercracker... he doesn't _want_ you all destroyed, he doesn't want Cybertron to loose your class, the Constructicons, tri-combiners, and triple-changers, you have them all! Silverbolt and his brothers aren't true Seekers, we all know that. If he followed you in one of the routs, let my creators and Prowl and Ironhide have their way... the war might be over, but at what cost to us all?"

Thundercracker met her optics. "Doesn't make it anymore right to let it build in attrition, half-starving us into non-existence because all Megatron can see with his helm up his aft is that he's not getting his way!" He hadn't meant to say it, but she seemed to be listening, and she wasn't... fighting. How in all of Cybertron's history had the pair of them gone from that wild ride to this?

"Half-starving... how can anyone starve on this planet?" she asked, shocked, her helm shaking, letting her optics shutter for a moment, listening for him to charge any of his weapons with her spark aching for his blatant pain. "You're right, it's not right, nothing about this war is right... and we're all going to die in it if nothing changes," her voice nearly trailed off, before she opened her optics again. "I don't know. I just know that somewhere a thousand vorns ago your people and mine stopped being able to talk to each other, and until someone in these two factions that aren't Prime and Megatron start talking, there's no way out."

He stepped closer to her almost despite himself. He couldn't seem to help listening to her, hearing her words, and Pits if she wasn't right but how in all of Unicron's abysses was there a way out? "Megatron's too strong. He'll never stop." It was impossible to even dream, anymore, but sometimes, Thundercracker wished he was smart enough or strong enough to be one of the forces of change.

She half-shuttered her optics, looking up at him so close with the ache of this in her Spark showing in them. He seemed so different than she'd ever seen him before, right now. It was as if he was thinking more than she'd ever seen, as though he was choosing to temper both his cruelty and threat, and she took a chance. She moved just a little closer and reached up to lay both of her hands on the metal at either side of his cockpit, up as high as her fingers would go without throwing herself totally off balance. "Some of the others say they don't think he _can_ stop... but... Do you want to die for him? I don't..."

Thundercracker shuddered, feeling her hands on him so gently, when she was an enemy. She had been fighting him, but... now she was touching him. Touching him like she wasn't afraid, he noted. Before he even considered the implications, he brought his own left hand up, cannon forgotten at this point, to lay it along her helm, feeling the smooth curve of her metal under his touch with no thought of damaging it. He just wanted to return the touch, which was something growing rare among his own kind. No one trusted enough to touch without layers of motive and guards behind it. "I don't have a choice," he said, his voice bitter. "Look at who I am." He was Starscream's, even if the glitch hadn't deserved him in vorns. He was part of the Command Trine, and that meant he was too bound to the 'Cons to ever be anything but a 'Con... or dead.

She pressed her helm back against his touch, lightly, just... accepting the contact, her fingers sliding just slightly on his plating in return, as she craned her neck up to look at him. She didn't entirely understand what she was doing, what _they_ were doing, but she wasn't sure anything had ever felt as right to her as this moment did, this chance to reach out, maybe to really change something. "You're Thundercracker," she said, her voice gone quiet and gentle, "and I wish I knew more about who that was, under the symbol you wear and what you do..."

His hand froze, unsure what he was hearing from her. He wanted to just blow it off as her being so young, but... she had him stirred up, questioning his place in life, unsure of the future. No one was here; his sensors would feel them coming well before anyone could get close. She was touching him while pressed inside his fields, close enough for him to feel how different she was, and yet so familiar from long-lost vorns. She wasn't a factory-assembled bot, given life through the necessity of war. No, she had that wild energy of a femme who had been created between others, and that pull was enticing.

Without further thought -- because sometimes he was Seeker enough to blindly follow his impulses -- he pulled her in with one hand going to her back, and the other sliding from the cheek to the back of her helm, energies flicking out over her with a single-minded intensity.

She'd been gearing up to argue with him, to tell him it wasn't that she expected him to be anything but what he was; she just knew they had to start seeing past the symbols to the mech if this was ever going to stop -- but all of a sudden he was yanking her in, pulling her up tight against his broad, strong frame. She tucked her helm against the top of his cockpit and turned her shoulder mount fully sideways, to where she couldn't hurt him accidentally, feeling his energies flick over her strong and sharp and intense, like nothing she'd ever known. It made her gasp, just a little, and push tighter against his chestplates, trying to figure out just exactly how he'd done that.

She responded, not resisting, and that made Thundercracker's energies --, never dampened that far in a fight anyway -- surge against hers, sweeping along her frame to find all the seams and sensors for his fingers to pry and stroke over. His cannons went cold in response to her mount turning aside as his right hand started exploring her back. She intrigued him, and he realized she had been intriguing him despite himself over the last several battles by targeting him and his own kind, making them desire her even as they all hated her strength.

She shuddered, pressing against his frame again, her hands sliding on his upper chestplates, mouth pressing against solid, heavy plating as Thundercracker's hand started running over her back, fingers... demanding, intent -- unfamiliar, unknown, but oh, his touch did feel good, his fingers on her plating and sensors making her shiver again and arch back, brushing her own fields in a return of that touch, or at least trying!

He shuddered at her tentative energy caress, bringing his wings toward her. He ran his hand on her helm to her neck, settling it there, keeping her tucked in tight, while flicking his energies against hers, twining into them, pulling at them to take for his own. His thumb caressed the base of her helm as he did, enjoying the way her curves felt against his plating.

::Mmm...:: she didn't realize she was saying anything until she heard it go out on the frame-link between them, and she shivered as she did realize it, shivered more at his energies sliding around... into? Ohh... into her own, tugging at them -- she wasn't sure she liked that, but ooh, it was good, too... His wings moved, up over her helm, and she looked up, reaching to see if she could touch, lightly, against one of those trailing air-brake edges she hadn't been pushy enough to try to grab on through that wild ride.

As she touched his wing, there was a shiver through his entire frame, and those energies spiked hard, pushing this time, giving her the surge from his excitement, his arousal. ::Yes...:: he sent, half-hissed in pleasure to feel a gentle, tentative touch on wings that had been mauled throughout the war by his enemies, and abused in the name of 'facing by his lovers.

She shivered, riding that sudden surge of energy that lit her frame -- frame that knew what to do with it, how to siphon those energies down into herself, but oh, she wanted more of that, more of him... Then he half-hissed, wing pressing against her hand and she gasped. ::Oh... oh, your wings are _sensitive_, Thundercracker, I'm so sorry!:: she sent, shocked and more than half-horrified, and she ran her fingers careful -- so careful -- around the shape of one lift flap, pressing herself tight to him.

::Have to be, for best flight... read all the variables, translate it to the best flight.:: Her words, though, soothed him, made his energies calm and stroke along hers more gently. He did pull at hers, wanting to taste more of the pure sensation she was, but he gave as well. He freed his hand from her back, sliding it along her hip, up her side, teasingly tracing the sensors he found in his path.

::Oh. I... guess that makes sense, but...:: She learned how to answer that pull of his energies, pressing her own out to meet him before she tugged them back to bring his surges of power down into her own frame as she stroked that wing again. She pressed up on the tips of her footplates to caress higher, bringing her other hand in, dipping it back under his arm to stroke her fingers along that leading edge where she'd grabbed him, all apologies on the link between them for a moment. Then his hand on her side distracted her and she pushed into his touch, shivering, opening her mouth against the cables of his neck... ::Oh... you feel good...::

::Ahhh... so do you...:: His hand slid out along her arm, learning the feel of it as he had with her back. He shifted, pressing his wings to her touch, shivering a little at the way her lips felt on his neck, and that induced him to tip his head back just slightly. His spark was cycling harder, craving her energies, giving more at every pull she demanded. The sense of being vulnerable, knowing how strong she was, only added to the haze of his desire. No 'Con gave in to a weaker one. It was too ingrained in their culture.

::..mmm... good, want to, oh...:: Midnight pushed into the slide of his hand on her arm, over her elbow and wrist, and then his head tipped back -- not the same kind of vulnerable it was in the organics of earth, with their soft windpipes and nearly surface arteries, but motor control and intake relays did run there. She closed her dental plates against one cable lightly, petting her palm light over that lift flap before she slid her hand higher, her other hand still exploring that leading edge close against his back. Thundercracker's spark was cycling harder against his chestplates, against hers, she could feel the speed of it -- and she whimpered at the sudden, sharp flare of her own spark in response. She pushed nearer, trying to get her chest closer to him despite already being tight enough to him that they were surely trading paint with every move of their frames, adding to the current between them with the quasi-static building off their motion.

::Want to what?:: He asked her, and his voice was a low, deeply seductive throb. He ached to lay her back on the ground, so he could put his mouth on her sensors, but there was a fight and this -- this was not the wisest thing he had ever done. That didn't keep him from bringing his hand off her neck and around, caressing the smooth line of this shoulder from neck to joint. He had to keep at least part of his senses trained out, to keep this secret, but the way he was feeling demanded everything she could give him in this moment.

She trembled, helm to toe, at his voice, and arched herself against his touch to her shoulder, trying to figure out what he was asking past her reaction to that deep, blatantly hungry tone, blinking for a moment before she could remember. ::Oh... want to feel good with you, for you, Primus, Thundercracker, your voice...:: she sent even as she bit at his neck cables again and let her energy surge at him, hands still moving on his wings, caressing, looking for spots that would feel good...

::Just ride the waves...:: Thundercracker started pulsing more energy at her, loving the way it made her feel in return. Her pure energies, so clean and crystalline in their way pinged back into his shadowed spark with renewing vigor. He could not help but slide both hands down to her hips, lower, so he could pull her up his body. That would put their sparks more on level, and even if they couldn't indulge in a full 'facing, he would feel her overload hit, and take as much from that as he dared.

She let the words guide her, learning from her frame's reactions how to consciously direct what he was doing with his energies, what she needed to do with hers... His fields felt like smoke, like heat, like the acrid char of gunpowder-based weapons, etching along her own. But oh, his hunger, his want, his surprised desire carrying on the frame link was sweet as the freshest mountain air, and she flared her energy out again, and again, catching at his and dragging it deep into herself. Then his hands were on her hips, lifting her -- //easy as papa ever does// flashed through her processor -- up so that she could feel his spark almost against hers, and she twisted, wrapping her legs around his hips and thighs, turning her feet so that she could brace on him and get closer. ::Oh, oh, Thundercracker...:: she moaned softly as waves between them and the power building on them wreaked all the best kind of havoc on her systems.

::Yes... that's it, my little femme,:: he sent, crooning at the feeling of all her rawness, at the sweet caress of purity even as he mocked her size just a little. No taint at all within her... and his hands tightened as it fully registered just what that meant. His optics flared, and then his energies folded in around her, holding her close to him as he tempered his spiraling Spark against too intense a wave of energy. He'd kill any Autobot he had to. He'd even killed 'Cons that had threatened him or his trine. But he was not cruel enough to make this too much for her, not when she had given him touch in a form he had been craving for vorns... and been denied time and again by his own without even realizing he wanted it.

::I am not little!:: she protested emphatically, her hands tightening, even as she tucked herself in closer to him for that sudden wrap of his energies tight around her frame, the way his hands tightened under her hips. She moaned again at the wild spike of energy that went through her in response, even though she could feel him holding it back...

::Never met a femme this close to my size,:: he admitted. ::Beautiful, though...:: He dipped his mouth down to run his glossa along her throat, carefully feeding her energies, giving her just what he thought she could take, and devouring all that she gave him. He longed to just let himself take it all, but distantly he could feel his trine's pull, the battle-lust still within them. It anchored his desires, made him take care so this forbidden liaison would not be betrayed.

She purred her contentment at that, even though she was perfectly able to visualize how small she had to look against him. She shuddered at his lick against her throat -- then those last words made her smile, bright and sharp, as she arched into his hands, his mouth. She was trembling with that careful push and slide of power through her systems, feeling how eager he was for her just making her give up -- and demand -- more.... ::Of course I'm beautiful, I'm my creators' Sparkling...::

::Leave them out of it, would ya?:: he prompted her, too many memories there. She was herself, and that was what he wanted, which he washed over that frame link. His hands flexed on her frame, holding her tightly, his cockpit nestled within the curves of her frame, and it felt so good that he almost wanted to take this as far as he could, and pits-be-damned. Still, he was survivor enough to know he needed to make it quick, and she was keeping up so far. He stroked a little more power over her frame, fed her Spark just that little more to urge her closer to overload.

:Oh... of course, I didn't.... Nnnn, you... oh, Thundercracker, you feel...:: she washed quiet chagrin, apology... hunger for him, desire, want, along their frame link, whimpering as his hands opened and tightened down on her frame, rubbing herself against his cockpit, his frame, that push of power making her wail along the frame link in a sharp, high gasp.

::Yeah, Midnight... ride that... Let it go...:: he encouraged her, eager to take the outpouring she was sure to have when she overloaded. His glossa flicked over her neck again, finding the right spots to drive her crazy.

She whimpered, twisting against him, pressing into his mouth on her neck -- so sensitive, how did he, she didn't -- as her systems started to flash warnings into her processor, but the first of the warnings hit almost as the first system suddenly overloaded and dropped offline. She wasn't going to offline, she wasn't, but... system after system rolled through overload like a blackout rolling across the plains, energy flaring out with every crash, and she lay still and dazed in his arms, no longer clinging, just pressed in close, as it finally let her go.

Thundercracker took the uncontrolled, raw energy pouring off of her, letting it filter through his systems. He was almost at overload when it finished, but he couldn't give himself that. He held her, wings canted as far forward as he could to shield her, resting his helm on her shoulder as he controlled his spark, forced it under his control, making it just accept that he wasn't giving in to what it wanted. Nor, when his processors pointed out several brutal factors, was he giving in to those either. Yes, he could actually remove her from the war so easily right now while her defenses were down. War be damned, her creators be damned, and his trine commander be damned, but this femme was not going to suffer at his hands after giving so much to him, unasked for.

She finally managed to convince her optics and the servos for her hands to come back online, letting her open her optics as she reached to pet his chestplates. She could feel the vicious roil of tension that had to mean he hadn't let go, and she made a low, worried croon at him.

::Shh, little femme,:: he hushed her concerns. ::My trine would know.:: He stroked her helm with his cheek, before shifting to set her back on her own feet.

She un-tangled from him, heat rising sharply to the surface of her cheeks, tucking herself in close again, sending, ::OH. I -- I didn't mean to... tease? I just...::

::No...:: He caught her hand, pulling her back to his chest, dipping down to brush his cheek along her helm again. ::What you gave me... I will remember a long time, Midnight,:: he admitted softly. ::If there was no battle, I could indulge myself, but while they'll mistake the build for reactions to the fight, the release would betray us.::

//Us,// she whispered in the back of her processor, keeping the delighted word down under her thoughts, while she tipped her helm to brush against his cheek with hers, then tipped it quick to kiss him, looking up at his optics with a slow nod. ::I... don't think there's going to be any forgetting you, for me,:: she said, fighting her voice not to be soft, or shy, ::and.... I suppose that makes sense.:: She hated it for him, hated that his trine-mates wold know so quickly, but -- best not to test against that, he was right.

He reacted to the kiss, despite himself. It was... different. Not the savage mark of claiming that it had come to be among Seekers, but something more tender, and it shook him as hard as her purity had, as much as her touch could have. //Why,// he railed inside his processors, //must it always be harsh and pain for us now?!// He pulled back enough to fix the sight of her, smeared with his colors, into his memory banks, down under deep locks so it couldn't be stolen from him. ::I'll fly back, drop you out of sight of the field...:: he said, making himself remember that they were at war.

::...probably the best plan going,:: she agreed. ::Where can I grab that won't bother you so much?:: She brushed her fingertips down along the leading edges of the wings, frowning to herself.

He shivered slightly at that caress. He then backed away, transforming on the ground so she could mount his broad flight-deck. ::You may touch me anywhere,:: he sent to her. ::But the vent edges up there make good handholds, and are less sensitive, as they are for cooling my interior.::

She climbed up as lightly as she could and settled carefully, ::Okay,:: she sent, dipping her hands into the edges of those vents to hold on, pressing her cheek against his plating, rocked all the way down to her struts by those words. She would have been touched by them from any mech, let alone from... ::This all right?::

For answer he cycled up his engines, letting the vibrations pass through him and into her before edging up and away from this place. ::Do you feel secure?:: he asked, but he shifted his fields anyway, pulling in with his electro-magnetic spectrum shields to hold her there.

::I'm steady,:: she agreed, shivering at both the heavy vibration coursing through her frame and the wrap of his powerful shield around her. She just hung on as he flew, until her own sensors told her they were very close. She slipped her hands away from his vents, wind shear immediately buffeting her harder, and she sent, tightly focused, ::Roll, dump me, give us both the excuse -- I'll be fine, I'm tough...::

::Of course you are,:: he sent, confident in her, and did as she asked, a fleeting sense of regret hidden under a feeling of wonder for what they had shared when he executed that roll, releasing his fields from around her to let her fall.


End file.
